


Nightwing and Starman: Catch a Falling Star

by BKent



Category: Batman (1966), Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Starman (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, gravity rod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25286785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BKent/pseuds/BKent
Summary: Nightwing visits Gotham City on a warm summer night and has an encounter with a time-traveling Golden-Age Starman and learns more of just what his gravity rod can do.
Relationships: Batman/Robin, Nightwing/Batman, Nightwing/Starman
Kudos: 7





	Nightwing and Starman: Catch a Falling Star

Ah, the Gotham City skyline at night. There’s nothing quite like it. Pretty, really, when the stars above, a bit dim from the city lights, blend in with the various man-made lights that still make the whole horizon sparkle. Up here, in one of my usual perches high above the streets, you can’t hear (at least as well) the more disturbing noises from the streets. You don’t hear the alley screams of some young couple being shot in front of their young son because some low-life wanted to steal their stuff (like what happened the Big Guy, Bruce, Batman, when he was a kid, which is kind of why I’m up here tonight in the first place, when you think about it. No murder, no Batman; no Batman, no Robin; no Robin, no Nightwing. But don’t think for a minute I’m going to “thank” that lowlife for offing Bruce’s parents. Pretty as the skyline can be, I can buy a ticket to the observation deck at Wayne Enterprises like every other slob and then go home to soak in the tub, thank you very much.). 

Yes, up here, it’s different. And as much as I would have liked to never have had to be here, well, here I am. And as long as there are low-lifes around who kill little boys’ parents for dough, like the ones who offed Bruce’s parents and mine, at a circus with Mafia ties, here is where I perch, many a night, just waiting to run a little interference. 

Well, before, anyway. Gotham isn’t my hangout, anymore, really, but I like to visit once in a while. My days as Robin were fun, but, hey, time marches on. I could call myself just "Grownup" but that's not as sexy a superhero name as "Nightwing", so that's what it is. But it's fun to help the Big Guy out for old times' sake once in a while, and to check in on the new guy wearing the Robin costume and making sure he doesn’t fuck it up (as they are prone to do, I’ve found). 

Tonight was just like that. Yeah, it was tons of fun. I came up from Bludhaven on my bike and hung out at the Manor – that would be Bruce’s house – and no sooner started in on that great tea that Alfred brews up just for me whenever I’m visiting (so he says) when Bruce got the signal. Seems that BOTH Joker and Riddler, usually at each other’s sickly-guffawing throats, were holding an entire board games factory hostage, just outside the city, and were ready to blow it up if they didn’t get $10 million bucks from the Gotham Municipal Employee Pension Fund wired to their offshore account. Fortunately, between the Big Guy, his new “little guy”, and me, we were able to get to the factory, defuse the charges all around the place, and bust the smirks off both their faces. All in day’s work, right?

So, after that, I let those boys play house back at the Manor and I went back here to downtown to see what I could see. Other than an entire factory almost being blown up, it was a quiet night. So, I was up here taking in the stars when one of the stars I was looking at in my romantic reverie (maybe bringing out my gentle side after probably breaking Riddler’s jaw – again), got suddenly bigger and brighter, like a comet. 

I was about to make a wish on a falling star when I realized it wasn’t a star, or a meteor -- it was one of us! Well, somebody dressed like one of us. I thought some new, obscure member of the Justice League; I can't keep up. But I didn’t recognize him, except really vaguely. He had on a complete red bodysuit, with a head covering with a red fin on the back, a dark green cape with a yellow star on the back of that, another yellow star on his chest, green shorts, green boots, and a brown belt that looked like a gun holster. He was carrying what looked like a big torch, glowing with a yellow light, and he gently landed up here on the roof a ways off, feet touching down gracefully like Clark (oops; Superman) does. He kind of looked like a Christmas ornament with the whole green-and-red ensemble but it was hot out, even way up here. He held the torch thing to his side and turned it off and holstered it at his side, and then I could see his face. He was hot. 

“Greetings,” he said, looking me up and down, either because he was checking out my ass (which everybody does, it seems) or because I didn’t look like a civilian in my Nightwing costume. His voice was deep and classic, like a 1940’s radio hour.

“Hey. ‘Sup,” I said, trying to sound butch. “That’s quite a toy you got there.”

“Oh,” he said. “You like my rod?”

I kind of choked/coughed to suppress my laugh at how sincerely he actually said that. “Well, not yet, but give me a minute,” I was about to say, but then thought I’d play it safe at first. But he was, like I said, hot, just judging by how he filled out the bodysuit and his face alone (although the fabric of that suit didn’t look like reinforced Kevlar; it kind of looked like the same fabric as a sweater Aunt Harriet would wear. 

After all that internal monologue, I managed to get out a flat, “Yeah.” (You’re a real poet, Grayson.)

“I am Starman, the Mystery Man of Night!” he said confidently. 

“Uh-huh,” I said, realizing in that moment how jaded I’ve become and how much it takes in superhero power to impress me at this point. Hey, I’ve been hanging out with super-powered aliens and mutants since I was kid, and I’m no kid (yeah, that’s he said, last night, Grayson).

“Are you JLA?” I said.

“What’s JLA?” he said.

“Justice League of America. You one of Clark’s pals?” I said, curious but also turned on by this guy’s jawline.

“Justice Society,” he said. “I uh.. I think I might have traveled through time,” he said, as easy as if he were saying he made a wrong turn up the road. 

“Where you from?” I asked. 

“Gotham City,” he said.

“Yeah, you traveled through time, all right,” I said, wondering how I missed the chapter about this “Starman” in all my Gotham City history that Bruce put me through as a kid. God, I hated that stuff. I probably skimmed that chapter so I could go up to my gold-plated-everything bathroom and jack off and then never returned to that chapter. If Batman even knew.

“I’m Nightwing,” I said, this time approaching him like the well-trained boy that I was and offering my hand. “Formerly known as Robin, in service to Batman.”

“Ah, swell,” he said, “I have heard of you both in my travels.”

“What brings you to, uh, the here-and-now?” I asked, part curious and also, hell, just flirting. Guys from the past are just so, well, "innocent" sometimes.

“I was trying some experiments with my Gravity Rod,” he said, “it’s my primary tool, powered by starlight. I invented it, and once I knew its powers, I’ve used it to fight crime ever since.”

“What’s your secret identity?” I asked. 

He kind of turned pale, even in the body suit with only his hands and face showing.

“Should I – uh…” he stammered back.

“Yes, you can. To me. I’m Dick Grayson. Batman is Bruce Wayne, like the Wayne you see on that building over there.” I looked at his kind of blank, innocent, staring face. “You must know Clark?” I asked, kind of challenging him, because I like to challenge the guys I’m hot for, just to see what they do.

“Well, if you mean, his other –” he stammered again, kind of nervous for all the confidence he showed before.

“Superman. Yes. That’s the one,” I said, not even trying to hide my rolling eyes behind my mask. 

“Is he around?” he asked, looking straight up at the sky.

“Nah. Haven’t seen him in weeks. Metropolis is having kind of a recession and he’s busy there on the resulting crime wave. But I’m sure he sends his regards. He’s nice that way.”

“Uh, yes. Yes. I’ve always found him to be,” he said, this time combining his hesitant stammer with a little shit-eating grin. 

“That’s cute,” I said, looking him right in the eye and taking a few steps closer. “You’re hot when you’re shy.”

“Well, I, uh, I don’t know about that.”

“So – who are you?”

“Oh, you mean, uh, the thing. When I’m not…” (he indicated his costume).

“Yeah. When you’re not in that Yuletide Uniform.”

“I uh – it’s uh – I’m Theodore Knight. I’m a scientist. Kind of a playboy thing. Hypochondriac, though. Throws my girl, Doris Lee, off the scent. It works, I suppose. Let’s me get away to work, when FBI Chief Woodley Allen summons me by opening a capsule of radioactive material that I can sense from anywhere.” 

“I like it,” I said, coming closer, realizing in that moment that I was downright sauntering over to him in a way that would make Selina Kyle (that’s Catwoman to you) blush.

“Which?” he said, confused but certainly not backing away. By now I was tracing the star on his chest with my finger and looking him right in the eye. I knew my eyes were dark and piercing through my mask toward his unmasked eyes. I liked the idea of him feeling my penetrating gaze. I’m a big fan of penetrating gaze, I guess you’d say.

“Your scent,” I said, close enough now to really pick up on those shitty deodorants they had back then, which is fine by me. Plus the tight costume he was sweating a bit through made it even better. 

“Sorry. I didn’t shower before I went out to experiment with my gravity rod.”

“It’s fine. Really. You know, you’re kind of hot, Ted.”

This time he really blushed, so much so he almost matched the crimson of his costume. This was gonna be fun.

“Oh. Oh. I see. You’re one of those guys,” he said, still blushing and grinning, though.

“Well, yeah,” I said, mock-bashful and scuffling my boot a little near his. “But you like that? I mean, if you’re visiting from another time, I guess I should show you some new-fangled Gotham hospitality, huh?”

He just kind of stared at me with these beautiful eyes that seemed like they had absorbed some of that starlight he was talking about. Man, I love science nerds who are hot. How do you think I stayed all those years with Bruce? I love how “ward” was just code for “butt-boy”, but hey, I wasn’t complaining. Still, this guy was a nice souvenir from the 40’s, and he was still well-preserved (kind of like that other guy, who was preserved in ice from the 40’s, but we don’t talk about him around here). 

“Wanna see my rod?” he asked, again just so damn innocently.

“The rod that brought you here?” I asked, keeping that gaze on him and trying to channel Rasputin’s hypnosis skills.

“Why, yes, let me show you,” he said, pulling what totally looked like this golden-yellow dildo out of his holster. He looked like a superhero from a porn film, but I was getting into it.

“What does it do?” I asked.

“Well, do you know Alan Scott? Green Lantern?” he asked, those cute eyes brightening up at the idea that we might have common ground.

“Well, I know Green Lantern, if that’s what you mean,” I said, a little confused, but I get that superhero mantles can sometimes be passed down over the years – example A, yours truly.

“It’s kind of like his ring. With this rod, I have captured the power of the stars. I can fly with it, use its force as a weapon, as a shield, many uses.”

“Can you make it work with your mind?” I said.

“Well, sometimes,” he said.

“Good,” I said, grabbing it out of his hand and holding it back at my ass. “Now what?” I said, again being more coy than Selina ever was. That bitch taught me well, and she wasn’t even intending to, that’s for sure. She’d be pissed I stole her act, which made it even more fun and I egged myself on.

“You like that?” he said, in a way that I knew I was bringing out the Inner Top in him that I just knew was there.

“Yeah,” I said. “A lot. But I don’t believe it’s all that powerful.”

“Oh?” he said, with a grin and that aw-shucks chuckle.

With that, this time he reached around and held me in his arms, with his right arm reaching back to my hand that held the gravity rod. He took his other hand while he pressed against me and pulled down on the waistline of my high-tech tights. I had already loosed them so the job was easy for him. I felt the rod vibrate and I could see the faint glow of it lighting up behind me in my peripheral vision, aided by the sensors in my mask.

“It’s powerful,” he said, as he lowered his eyes at me as he lowered his voice, and I gently let go of the rod out of my hand as he held it in his, gently pushing and finding its destination at my hole, and he slid it in, somehow making it vibrate even harder with his mind. 

“Now we’re talking,” I said to myself, but it just came out as a grin on my face as inhaled him at his neck.

With the rod now vibrating harder inside me, he grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me, hard, and he had this sweet breath like an old-fashioned spearmint Lifesaver. As he held me hard in the kiss, his soft tongue checking to see if I still had my tonsils, I felt my boots shift a little. I had to tilt my head down a bit to keep kissing him, and I realized I was rising.

I broke off the kiss when I realized I was levitating too much to reach his mouth anymore. I barely had time to see his face before I shot up in the sky, way above the roof of the building, being flown with his gravity rod way up my ass and him concentrating on sending some kind of telepathic control beam from his head. He swung me around in the sky, this way and that, and I did a somersault in the air that I couldn’t even control, with the vibrating rod going so hard it was making me want to come.

I giggled like I did when I was a kid and Bruce tickled me after a workout in the Batcave, finding it hysterical that this corny 40’s stud was bouncing me around the sky with a retro-space-rod up my ass. 

I was laughing so hard my tears were collecting on the inside of my mask and I was worried it would short out. Then he gently allowed me to glide back down to the roof’s surface, right in front of him.

“Now, where were we?” he said, all retro-business-like, in his deep voice that he reserved for his Starman shtick, then kissed me again as I felt my boots plant on the ground.

“Wow,” I said, “You’ve got good toys.”

He grinned that innocent grin again. “That’s something, coming from you and that legendary utility belt you used to have.”

“Eh. It’s all in here” I said, as I tapped on my gauntlet. “I travel lighter in this day and age.”

He continued kissing me as I felt the gravity rod’s vibration start to slow down.

He reached around as it glided back out of me and he held it firmly in his hand, still glowing.

“Uh… you wanna wash that?” I said, this time taking my turn to blush a little.

“How do you guys say it now?” he said, still grinning and running the rod horizontally under his nose and sniffing it. He closed his eyes in apparent ecstasy and said, “No fucking way,” and slid it back into his holster.

“You’re fun, Starman,” I said. “Not like these squares I gotta deal with,” I said, learning his own lingo this time.

“I like the future,” he said, “It’s got good toys.”

“Come over and play, anytime. Can that rod help you find me? I’m all over the place these days.”

“Sure,” he said. “It can do anything,” as he took it back out of his holster and held it high above his head, as his feet began to lift off the ground.

“How will I find you?” I said, playfully and yet already a little wistful that I was going to miss my Hot Blast from the Past.

“Just catch a falling star,” he said, giving me that retro-grin again, and shooting up into the sky with a bright yellow tail of sparkle left behind him.

I don’t think I’ll ever look up at those stars the same way again. 


End file.
